On the Streets
by AlexandraMae
Summary: Dan finds himself homeless after a crazy fight with Phil. Dan's fight to survive life on the London streets is detailed below.
1. Chapter 1

It was only a cold, Dan told himself, coughing into his gloved hand. His body rattled with cold, his chest ached, and his heart pounded a dull uneven beat overwrought rhythm. He sat on the holey couch curled up into a tight ball. The grime of the couch cushions matched only by the grime scattered along the alley floor. The couch was covered in bugs that had made their home within the holes just as Dan had, the rainy London weather left the faint scent of mildew in the cushions. The muddy ground covered in wrappers from various shops nearby and the remnants of drug users who had moved on, old needles, used condoms, little baggies. Dan tried to avoid the trash but it isn't as if he didn't live here.

Dan coughed again, a shiver running through his body. He pulled his ratty blanket rather up his body, exposing his feet to the weather. He wore old shoes that had holes in the soles and took up water faster than a drunk takes up alcohol. He had a pair of skinny jeans with holes in the knees, a couple T-Shirts, a sweater and an old ratty coat. All of these items had been soaked through time and time again, chilling Dan to the core. He didn't know what it was to be warm anymore.

Dan started sneezing, his body convulsed on the couch. It was January, it was cold and wet. This wasn't the first cold Dan had had out here. From what he could gather he'd been here about 18 months. He got sick a lot more often on the streets.

He left of his own will. That much was certain. But it still wasn't his choice. He and Phil had had a fight, a fight to end all fights, he couldn't even remember what it was about anymore, but Phil had wanted him gone, to leave and never come back, and so that's what he did. Dan still had family, but no one who could take him in, so he took to the streets. His parents had died in a car crash the year before, the rest were unable or unwilling to help. What the Phandom had done to Adrian had turned him against Dan, there was no hope there.

Dan had tried to get apartments and hold them, but he couldn't afford the rent alone and without electrical outlets he had no job. He sold his cameras and equipment trying to make rent, with the knowledge that his money was almost gone and desperation had set in. After three weeks of eviction notices, Dan packed up what he could and left for the streets.

The Phans wanted to help, as Dan had posted a farewell video not stating much other than he regretfully had to leave Youtube, but he knew he couldn't accept their money. Even if he could Phil had the key to their shared P.O. Box. Dan coughed again, his throat raked with the germy hurricane that was ripping through his chest. He grabbed his throat, trying to calm his body.

Dan sat up against the back of the couch, breathing deeply the icy air trying desperately to fill his lungs before the next attack. He pulled his legs up to his chest and stuffed them under his sweater, all he could do was shiver and wait for sunrise.

8 hours of agony and the sun was finally rising above the shops, Dan let the sun's warm rays glide over his icy fingers.

Dan wasn't okay, like it or not being sick on the streets was destroying his body slowly but surely. The lack of proper clothing and medicine meant he felt worse than he had in a long time. The cold was recurring and unfortunately for Dan this likely meant he had some form of sinus infection. He hadn't been throwing up or anything of that sort but he was likely running a fever and he sounded about as healthy as the BDSM relationship in 50 Shades of Grey.

Dan rubbed his nose, looking up at the sky; at least with the rise of the sun things would be slightly less bleak. The clouds however suggested a storm was on the way and that didn't make for a fun night. A shudder ran through Dan despite the end of the night. He looked bleary eyed at the street beyond the alley. He was so close to society and yet could never come close enough.

He remembered complaining in the past about "peasants were sneezing on him" on the train and yet he would give anything to be back on that bus being sneezed on by a peasant. It would signify that everything was okay; he was coming home from the shop to see Phil. His throat erupted in sharp painful coughing, he couldn't hold it back anymore, and it wracked his chest every time. When people would walk by they would stare at him from the streets in silent judgment. They saw him and thought he was a drug addict or alcoholic, it didn't help that it had been over a year since he received a proper haircut. Truth be told he looked like the average stoner kid, the coughing almost sounded like a smoker's cough. He could see why people would avoid him although admittedly he did miss the company. Dan had decided that if he did survive this he would be nicer to people, homeless, sick and the like.

Around lunch time Dan's stomach began to cramp up from three days of no scraps so he rolled off of the couch and began walking around the restaurants in the area. He found Antonio's Pizza Pasta Salad and hors d'oeuvres and walked around the back. With what energy he had he opened the dumpster quickly while no one was watching. He leaned over the bin to try and find half finished or expired food when someone from the restaurant came out into the area surrounding the bin.

"BOSS! WE GOT A LURKER" he screeched, running inside quickly to grab a manager, Dan grabbed what he could and made a mad dash to get out of the corral area. When the man and his manager returned trash covered the floor in mottled disarray but Dan was nowhere to be seen. The two checked the bins thoroughly but Dan had disappeared.

Dan panted furiously sitting on his couch, trying to manage coughing and breathing at the same time. He had managed to grab some lettuce remains, a half eaten slice of pizza, and a soda cup that had a piece of gum and a little bit of orange colored soda left in it. Dan carefully picked the gum off the cup and drank the soda, setting the cup aside for later. He then devoured the pizza in three bites; he licked his fingers savoring the flavor. The lettuce was all that remained. He looked at it hungrily. He wanted to eat it, he really did, but he tried not to go to the shops too often because if they realized he was going to be a problem they would have the bins locked off and his entire food source would be destroyed. He couldn't risk that, he set the lettuce on the side of his couch and decided to set it off until tonight or tomorrow. He was covered in dumpster juice and realized he needed to get some of it off. Dumpster juice was his name for the secretion produced by the older rotting foods found in the dumpster. It wasn't extremely unpleasant considering the scent meant food was nearby but at the same time he didn't want to give people more of a reason to avoid him. He took his big coat off and shook it out, hanging it up. His body felt worse without the coat but at the same time he couldn't manage not trying to be an acceptable member of society. Even after this long he still hoped that this could end.

Many hours had passed sense Dan's escapade at Antonio's. He had rested a while and watched people walking by most of the rest of the afternoon. He hated begging. He couldn't stand the disdainful looks that people often gave him so he took to hiding out and stealing at will.

Dan sighed, things weren't meant to be this way. He and Phil should have made up ages ago just like before. Unfortunately that hadn't happened and wouldn't happen. Dan hadn't seen Phil sense he left home and had no intention to now. Not like this. He sighed, looking down at his worn Converse. They used to be black but now sported a dingy grey color and grey brown laces. You could see the rubber around the edges cracking from exposure. There were holes in the fabric where the strings had no more hope to hold together, the rubber soles had holes walked into them day by day to where there was no water resistance anymore. The shoes reminded Dan of his life. These things that once were worth something now useless and decrepit on the streets. He sighed, looking back to his lettuce.

"Hey, wait, what? SHOO!" Damn screeched, seeing a rat nibbling his lettuce. Dan sprang towards it, it hissed and ran off. Dan looked to the lettuce, it was covered in little bite marks from where the rat was gnawing on it. He chucked the lettuce angrily into the street as a man was walking by. The man looked over startled as Dan began to cough in a manner so ridiculously awful he fell to his knees. The man walked quickly past, he was wearing a nice suit and tie, Dan wanted to think he was late to a meeting or something of the sort, not speeding away to avoid the sick youth in front of him. That would have been insulting but Dan was sure that had not been why he had sped off so quickly. Dan waddled back to his couch and lay down. He'd lost a lot of weight out here; things weren't easy on the streets. That being said things could have been worse - he could have a terminal illness after all, Dan thought to himself, smirking at the reference to the job he had lost. He couldn't say given up, he couldn't think of it that way.

Dan looked over to the corner; it's where his signs were. These were the signs that were asking for money. He hated doing it, but he was so desperate. The charity of others was often the only reason he would be able to get a hot meal. After about 6 months he had saved up enough from the charity of others to purchase a coat. He had remembered walking into the store with the money gathered in his coat pocket, but one look from the storekeeper and it was all over. The man rushed him, with wild eyes and limbs flung this way and that, screaming at Dan to get out of his store. Dan had stammered that he had only wanted to purchase a coat but the man wasn't having it and shooed Dan out of the store. The worst piece of the pie was that as Dan ran a lot of the money fell out of his pocket, Dan had scrambled to pick it up but the shopkeeper began kicking him in the side. He then ran out the store with what money he could salvage and an aching pain in his ribs from where the man's combat boot had met his flesh. All he had wanted was a coat.

Dan grabbed his side, remembering the strenuous bruising that the man had left there. He could still feel the humiliation from that day burning in his heart, on his face; he couldn't bear how that man had made him feel. Dan lay down on the couch, sprawling out gently. He really didn't feel well. His nose, his throat, his heart, his chest - everything about him felt sick or wrong. This wasn't the first cold he'd gotten out here but lately they'd been getting worse and worse, they were starting to reoccur. He would've worried about it were there anything he could do but honestly there really wasn't. Not like this. No one wants to hire someone who sounds like the plague had taken hold of their chest and decided never to let go. He couldn't get hired on before this let alone now. His hair hadn't been this long since 2009. Dan could barely move at this point. His body felt like it was on the edge of collapse but he knew if he didn't keep going there was no "net" to catch him. So he kept going. He kept trying to live because if he didn't, he would simply lay down and die.


	2. Chapter 2

On his 9th day on the streets Dan had seen a woman being attacked on the street that opened to his alley. He had gone out to help her and the men had severely beaten him in her place. She had walked away as if she hadn't seen anything. He came off with a bloody nose, cut lip, and masses of bruising along his body. She hadn't even cared. He had wondered if it was because he was homeless, he was starting to smell and his clothes were slowly beginning to look more unkempt and untidy with each passing moment lavished in filth. He had nursed bruises for weeks over a woman who ignored his very existence. He was astounded by this and honestly hurt by it, but he got used to this sort of reaction. Life for him was so different now, he was invisible as it were when before he was so up and coming in the mainstream it almost hurt with all the expectation that was placed on him. Now nobody knew or cared he existed. There wasn't a single person who wanted him alive. He thought of this time and time again but hadn't acted on the urges. Not yet anyways.

Dan looked down at his hands, they were worn and pale, his once lengthy fingernails were dirty jagged stubs and his hands and arms were covered in little scratches. The angry voice in Dan's head was shouting to the void of anger and pain telling him to just do it. There's nothing left for you in this world, just do it. He'd been out here in the conditions too long, he knew he was too sick to do much more than move but at the same time he wanted it to be over. He sighed, breathing in what of the air he could and sputtering out the rest in a coughing fit. Dan couldn't believe that this was his life now, but it's not like he could go back to the way things were before. Not now. He got up carefully and tried to wander around to find some more dumpster food, much to his displeasure he found nothing of value at any of the nearby shops and so he began to drift farther away from his little hideaway and into the city.

Dan searched shop after shop but it seemed it was garbage day for most places and the others the items he was able to salvage were often too inedible even for him. He went into a nearby shop after a glass of water and stared down during the entire transaction. They seemed to expect he would steal something or secretly fill his cup with soda. Phil. He wondered what he was up to right now. He was probably not coughing up a storm in a local burger joint to the irritation of the employees and other customers. The way they looked at him seemed to him as if he were a rat that had wandered into the shop and had not yet been killed or removed. Everyone wanted him dead it seemed. He couldn't understand why nobody could sympathize with him. But to be fair, it's not likely that Dan of the past would have sympathized. Had someone asked for money he would've mumbled some apology about being broke and walked off. If he ever got the chance to change that reaction he would, but for now there was only one option. Dan left the shop to the relief of many customers and began walking back towards his little couch on the alley. As he walked along he began to cross a bridge. He stopped mid bridge, looking out at the murky waters. England didn't have pretty water like the Caribbean or Mexico it had dull grey blue water. He sat down, contemplating what it would be like to jump. He imagined the water surrounding him, the weight crushing him and pushing him farther down, his weak body unable to handle the current and being washed out to Sea. Dan couldn't help but feel that may be the better option. He imagined being washed away from the world, no longer the piece of scum that currently sat here.

Dan slouched over the rail, looking at the murky abyss below. He hadn't made any decisions, not yet at least. He slouched down, feeling as though his weak figure would fly over the ledge if he let the winds sweep him away. He could taste the salt in the water spraying his lips, he didn't know where he had gotten off too but apparently it was near the sea. He turned to face the road, sliding down until his worn jeans met the cold hard pavement. He sat idly by waiting and watching. Cars drove past, nobody seemed to notice him. He felt that despite the pain he felt nobody else could sense he was even there. It was atrocious. Nobody gave a damn. He sighed, standing once more to look out over the water. He saw a family of ducks swim by, watching them longingly dreaming of a world where Phil still loved him, where his parents weren't gone, where Adrian hadn't written him off like the annoyance he was. Dan dreamed of a better world for himself, despite everything daring not to dream hoping not to hope. Dan felt all the pain in the world shoved into his tiny heart, he felt heartbreak, he felt family loss, he felt jobless and useless, and was beginning to feel absolutely and utterly lifeless. As listless as he was he had to consider the possibility of continuing on. Keep on keeping on as they say. Dan considered jumping once more, thinking how the water could free him. He didn't believe in a God, a Heaven, a Hell, but at the same time he knew that if he were to jump likely the last thing he would do is pray. To what or who he didn't know but at the same time he didn't know much of anything anymore. He was lost, and just like all who are lost he sought a finality to his situation. This is when he started climbing the railing to the bridge. The slimy metal poles cold to the touch seemed a gate to freedom. He made it about half way up the side when a car pulled over next to him.

A woman stepped out of the red station wagon, she was an older woman maybe in her thirties or forties, Dan didn't see her until she had grabbed his arm. His head spun around quickly, noting the woman and sighing. He didn't have the energy to tear her away and yet he continued trying to climb.

"What's your name?" she asked. No answer, however Dan had stopped. What did this woman want, why couldn't she leave him alone? All he wanted was the end. "Dear, what's your name?"

"Dan" He sputtered out, as his lungs tried to leap from his chest because of the coughing tornado that had erupted from him.

"Dan, come down here." she said, grabbing his shaking body. She was short but helped him into her car as he seemed so frail that he could just collapse at any second. "Okay Dan, we're going back to your home. Where do you live?"

"Just turn right on Grinnel when you reach there" he whispered, letting the heat of the car sink into his bones. When the car arrived the woman looked confused, Dan however thanked her and got out of the car, walked over to his couch and curled back up into a ball. The woman walked out of her car and sat beside him on the couch.

"So this is where you're living?" she asked, he nodded. "Why?"

"It's a long story."

"I see. I suppose that means asking where your family is also happens to be out of the question. Well Dan, if you'd like to spend a night or two with me and my husband that would be alright."

"You don't have to do that."

"Oh nonsense, my husband and I do charity work through the church all the time, taking you in for a few nights would be a great opportunity to serve Him. What do you say?"

"You're sure?" she nodded, "alright..." he sighed, standing up slowly. They walked to the car and drove off. Street by street Dan tried to keep watch but couldn't help dosing off in the comfort of a dark, warm passenger seat.

"Here we are." she said, waking Dan. The single story house was in the middle of nowhere, how long had she been driving to reach him? It didn't matter, he was safe right?

The house was a dark cherry brown with neatly trimmed bushes surrounding the front windows. The building itself seemed old, single pane windows and flaky trim paint graced the front of the building, beneath the clean exterior obvious architectural problems swirled.

"This is the front room, the guest room is to the left, if you'd like to go rest you can." she said, he nodded and walked over, shutting the door he got into the bed and fell straight asleep.

****************************************************************************** "Morning sleepyhead" The woman said, looking to Dan.

"How long...?"

"You slept for a few days. You woke up a few times but never for long."

"How did I?"

"I helped you find it don't worry"

"Oh. Thank you"

"You're welcome. You were very sick when you got here Dan."

"Yeah well..."

"Don't worry we'll get you fixed up in no time."

"What's your name by the way?"

"Oh that's not important for now" she said with a smile, walking out the door. He supposed it really wasn't, I mean for starters how was he going to get back on his feet so he could stop being a burden on this woman. She was being so kind, and he was more useless than a log. At least logs could warm things up. Well he could probably do that too now that he thought about it seeing as he'd likely been running a fever for days. The woman returned with soup and handed him the bowl, he smiled.

"Thank you ma'am" she said,

"Thank the Lord first Dan."

"What oh, okay thanks ...God..."

"Dan, are you a Christian?"

"Honestly, no." he said, looking down at his soup.

"Oh. Alright then." she said as her smile twitched.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh perfectly dear." she said, walking off. Dan sat up, drinking his soup slowly to take in the flavors he had missed on the streets. Even if it was canned it was fresh from a can, not half eaten or rotten or covered in random substances, this was heaven even if it was simply canned Chicken Noodle Soup. He cherished every bite. When he was finished he began searching for the kitchen to drop off his utensils. He passed a few rooms he seemed to recognize, the bathroom, the great room, a little den, until he finally reached the kitchen. He walked to the sink to wash his bowl and spoon when he felt warm breath on his neck that smelled of chocolate mint.


	3. Chapter 3

Dan spun around quickly to find a girl standing on a stepping stool behind him.

"Would you like a mint?" she asked, holding out a bag of Andes mints she had been snacking on.

"Uh, sure" he said, grabbing one of the chocolates from the bag

"They're my favorite, what about you?"

"Oh um Maltesers..." he said, stepping to the side. She smiled kindly, handing him the bag

"Have some more"

"No I don't think I will. Who are you anyways?"

"Cara. My mom is the one that found you. I guess it was your lucky day!" she said happily, with a far off look in her eye she smiled once more, "I heard she found you on a couch on a side street for the night, which sounds awful." Dan silently thanked Cara's mother for not telling the young girl what he was about to do when she approached him, even if it was just some stranger that wasn't the kind of example he wanted to set for anyone. He set her chocolates on the counter and walked back to the guest room. He wanted to explore the house more than anything but at the same time he didn't feel like he could brave stairs of any sort. He sat down on the bed and in trod the girl with her chocolates in tow.

"Do you like it here?" she asked, sitting next to him on the bed

"Well I have no reason not to?"

"Oh, I suppose you're right, that's good then." she said with a smile,

"How long have you all lived here?"

"Oh well um probably sense I was about 7 and I'm 15 now so that's what 8 years?" she said, counting the years on her fingers

"Oh well that's... that's something really."

"Where do you live?"

"Grinnel Ave." he said

"Do you live in a nice home?"

"Yeah it has loads of... TVs and... Great Wi-Fi" he lied, hoping to placate the girl

"Well I hope our house can hold up."

"Oh I'm sure it will" he said, feeling more and more awkward about this whole encounter by the second. She just smiled, looking at him as if she was trying to find something in his soul that was just under the surface but too far away to see. He didn't understand this girl, but at the same time she seemed nice enough. Dan got back under the covers and the girl walked off so he could get some rest, the mother had told Cara that she thought Dan had pneumonia, Dan however only knew he felt awful and that sleep was the best fix he could find.

****************************************************************************** The next morning Dan awoke to a glorious sunrise, birds singing outside his window, and rope around his ankles and wrists, tying him to the bed. Bewildered Dan looked around for a sign of who had done this, and yet he saw no one. He started tugging at the rope but in his weakened state there wasn't much hope of freedom. His body relaxed as he gave in to the realization that something was very wrong here. He fell back asleep as it was decidedly the best thing he could do in the situation, but was awoken shortly after to Cara's mother entering the room.

"Oh, hello Dan dear."

"Who tied me up, what's going on here." he demanded as his throat gave in to the tickle that was requiring him cough.

"Oh don't worry, you see when I brought you here I had only meant to help rehabilitate. But my daughter saw you a few days ago and told me who you were, now that you're up and moving I can't let you go. You see my daughter wants to marry you, even though you don't believe in our Christian faith... But it is her wish and so we are here to help her. You'll go free as soon as you've married my daughter - after you've accepted Christianity and our lord and savior of course. Now Cara is fifteen so you'll have a 3 year stay, good behavior will get you rewarded but bad behavior... let's just say there are worse things than being tied up. I'll see to it my daughter gets what she wants Dan."

"...You're crazy."

"Crazy about Cara. She had a heart defect as a child, we always cared for her as best we could and gave her everything we could, and now we can give her you. Now she can be truly happy." She said smiling, "goodbye Dan" she said, walking out the door.

Dan was stunned; he began searching his new prison for means of escape. Aside from a picture of a sailboat there weren't any means of freeing his hands and because the frame wasn't shattered he needed an Earthquake or a miracle.

He didn't even realize he had fans any longer let alone ones this crazy. He had admittedly declined in his internet life to pursue other interests before the fight and that led to less of the fan base actually giving a crap. He looked around once more, realizing that things could be worse. She had taken him in; he was resting in a warm bed, and was sounding quite a bit better from when he first arrived. There would be no more half an hour long coughing fits, no more begging for money or desperately searching for food. There was the down side that he was expected to marry this girl, but on the other hand she wasn't old enough and despite consenting parents they likely wouldn't marry until she was of legal age. This meant that he had long enough to get better and figure out some sort of plan for escape. As Dan was musing plans of how to speed the recovery process in walked Cara.

"Good morning Dan." she smiled, at this point he decided his best bet was to play along in hopes to dissuade any fear of him trying to run.

"Hello sweetheart" he mumbled, grimacing internally, "how are you doing?" he knew he'd have to fake it better than this to placate them.

"Oh I'm well." she said with a smile, hopping onto the bed next to him. The ropes around his limbs didn't seem to bother her in the slightest. What kind of family was this? "How is your ill- um I mean I hear you're feeling poorly, are you feeling any better?" she asked. Looks like she paid attention to his videos... even the smallest detail of which word preference he had was down.

"Yeah a bit" he said, "not one hundred percent though"

"Yeah, I'M sorry about that. Mom said when she picked you up you sounded like you were going to die" she said, stroking his glabella. He shuddered involuntarily at her touch, she was fifteen! He was in his mid twenties! This was repulsive. She scooted closer to him; her arms were covered in goose bumps, the hair delicately raised.

"Looks like you're cold; you should probably go get a jacket." Dan said, feigning concern and hoping she'd leave.

"Oh I'm okay, if all else fails I'll just hop under the covers with you." Dan smiled nervously at Cara; she smiled back with a gleam in her eyes that was almost creepy. Her light brown hair fell straight down past her chin into little ringlets, her eyes a cheerful green her nose a shape that reminded him of Phil. That was it. He could call Phil, tell them he needed to talk to his best friend, let him know he is engaged and will be in the wedding! Yes! Okay yes! Cara was droning on in the distance about some topic but all Dan could think about was Phil. But did he wait? Would waiting seem like he was using it as an escape not as an excited friend? Maybe he could give it a couple days. Let it "sink in" about his new life and then call excitedly to tell Phil? But would he understand him over the phone? His voice sounded as if a garbage disposal had taken root in his throat, he still couldn't stop coughing for long periods of time, and all the atrocious sniffling because he couldn't blow his nose meant that understanding a phone call from him would be highly unlikely. "And then she told me that I wasn't good enough to be the lead can you believe that?" Cara asked, looking at a very out of it Dan. "Dan are you even listening?"

"What? Oh yeah sorry... It's this cold... Pneumonia... Whatever... Think I'm running a fever again, and it's hard to focus when you can't breathe..."

"Did you want to take something?"

"No, no it's okay" he mumbled, he didn't feel like being drugged by an untrustworthy group of people

"No you should really take something."

"I'm actually allergic to most cold medicines" he lied through his teeth

"You never mentioned that in your videos? I though in The Joy of Illness you said you took a ton of medicines?"

"Oh, well I... I found out about the allergies later... They were really bad."

"Oh, how come you didn't make a video about it?"

"It didn't seem important at the time actually"

"But you said they were really bad?"

"Well I didn't think anyone would be interested."

"Well I'd be interested." she said, resting her head on his chest as he erupted into a fit of coughing.

"Of course you would." he said dryly

"What?"

"Oh nothing."


	4. Chapter 4

Dan breathed a prolonged sigh of relief as Cara waddled out the door at her mother's call. He couldn't help but feel mildly less horrible knowing he was free of her grasp for the moment. He let his eyelids droop in mild defeat and disbelief when in returned Cara's mother holding a needle and a questionable bottle. His eyes widened as she sat on the bed beside him.

"Now Dan, I can't have an atheist marrying my daughter. You understand don't you?"

"I... of course." he said, trying to sound assured rather than desperate to claw his way out of a seemingly hopeless situation.

"Then you'll understand why I have to do this." she said, sticking the needle into the top of the bottle."

"What is that?"

"Just think of it as cold medicine,"

"What are you injecting me with?"

"It's just an opiate based pain killer, no more noxious than vicodin."

"What is it?" he asked dryly, knowing full well the addictiveness of vicodin.

"You might call it heroin" she said, injecting it into his arm, "hopefully on this and with the right pastor you'll see God." Dan writhed as the liquid was forced into his veins, feeling the effects almost at once. An insane rush as in walked a pastor, a bible in one hand and a cross in the other. At once he began preaching to Dan.

He read passage after passage hand plucked from the book of Daniel. He believed in something but it wasn't in this. After what seemed like an eternity the pastor left, leaving Dan to face the fatigue of his first withdrawl.

"Now, I hate to do this," started Cara's mother, ass swaying as she walked into the room, "but if you want any more of this" she shook the bottle "you'll have to become someone fit for my daughter. That means a God loving Christian, those gauges have to go, you'll have to denounce some of the wretched things you've said online to your audience and announce your love for my daughter. Whenever you're ready I have the camera" she said, setting the bottle of heroin and the camera on the night stand just outside of Dan's reach.

He felt the now biological need for heroin, sweating and shaking already he was unprepared to face withdrawals. He nodded slowly,

"I'll do it. But I'll need a stand in for a tripod, and a laptop to upload with."

"Excellent. Would you like it now, or later?"

"Now." he whimpered. She stuck the needle back into his arm,

"Now remember Daniel, I own you, you do anything, you step a toe out of line, you hurt my daughter, and this goes away."

"Yes mum" he sighed.

"Where would you like the camera set?"

"Over there is fine."

"Now Daniel, I'll be zooming in on your face, your audience will not be able to see anything but your face, and if you say anything you know what that means for your supply."

"Fine. Just set it up and start recording, I'll start talking when I'm ready."

"Hello, internet" Dan said, attempting to be cheerful, but heroin and pneumonia don't exactly cheer up the disposition. "I've been gone quite a while. Many things have happened. And I doubt any of you are still here but, I am." He paused to sneeze into his shoulder, his whole body shuddering. "If you've been wondering where I've been, the answer to that is on the streets of London, accepting God into my life. I've been dealing with a severe bout of pneumonia from the homelessness, and God sent Cara and her family into my life." His eyes grew darker with every word, the bags seeming to grow until his face looked like the bargain rack at Macy's. "Cara is going to be my wife. We're getting married when she is old enough and has her parent's consent. If there are any Tumblrinos watching this, I am aware that sixteen is not in consent with my age and so, we are waiting. I would also like to denounce any suspicion of me being gay at this point, as my religion is against this and I won't tolerate hearing it any more. I hope you all have a great life, as this will likely be my last upload. I am sorry there won't be a sexy end screen dance, as I am physically unable to do so at this time. I don't know how long I will be sick, just know I love every one of you, and sincerely hope all is well." Dan finished his monologue, lying back and sighing. He felt awful about some of the things he'd said but Cara's mother was forcing his hand on so many different levels his options were dead. Dan gave in to a hard coughing fit before Cara's mother came in and shut off the camera,

"I'll be watching this, and then we upload. You'll give me your information, and it goes live. No edits. No computer access for you. Just the clip." she said, walking out the door.


End file.
